Faith and Dog
by Silver Maze
Summary: "I tried to warn you in the TV land," Gabriel said. "Sticking with those boys would end badly for you." / Castiel and Gabriel, bonding through the tragedy of their family. Chapter 1. Faith and Dog- 5x17. Cas drinks the liquor store with Gabriel and Gabriel teaches him a wrong lesson. Chapter 2. Faith and Bees - 7x21. Gabriel enters Castiel's hallucinating mind.
1. Faith and Dog

It's not that Castiel had a clear moment of revelation that day and decided, _Oh, I know, I'm gonna get shit faced drunk today_.

For one, revelation was nothing but hoax these days as God couldn't muster up enough care to throw any guidance to His creations.

For another, Castiel didn't know if he could get shit faced drunk, and frankly didn't wished to, because becoming powerless enough to be susceptible to mere liquid in the middle of goddamned Apocalypse was the worst life choice you could make.

That said, Castiel still found himself in a liquor store on that crisp early morning. The store wasn't open yet, but that didn't concern him. He bypassed any security measure with laughable ease, grabbed a random bottle, and began to chug.

For the record, Castiel didn't think that he was being melodramtic. Being melodramtic would be trying to start off the End just because Father wasn't answering your call. No, testing the very limit of your alcohol tolerance was a perfectly moderated response for getting personally brushed off by God. It wasn't like Castiel did everything to please Him from the beginning of his existence or anything, was it?

"Whoa, whoa. What do you think you're doing, bucko?"

Well into his inebritated state, Castiel only narrowed his eyes at the appearance of an errant Messenger. He didn't bother to stand up from his corner of drunken spree. Instead, he leaned against the wall and raised his head defiantlty.

"Fuck off," Castiel pronounced each syllable with care. If he was going to return what he heard from Him to His Messenger, he might as well make sure that his diction was as clear as possible.

Gabriel smirked, as if that was the funniest thing he had heard for awhile. "You kiss your mother with that mouth?"

"It's not like Father would care."

Gabriel raised his brow. "Ah, I see. Finally wisen up to the fact the search for Daddy is futile?"

"He told me to back off. His message was crystal clear."

"Message?" Gabriel repeated. "Wait, are you being metaphorical or did Dad actually speak to you?"

The unuttered 'and not through me' was apparent to the both parties.

"You renounced any right to claim your former job the moment you decided to play pagan god, Trickster," Castiel said nastily. Truth be told, he knew that he should be more careful than this. While he was reasonably certain that Gabriel would not kill him -afterall, if the archangel wanted him dead, he had several opportunities before- but that didn't mean that painful retribution won't be waiting for him for his cheek.

Gabriel narrowed his eyes. "Watch your tone, little brother."

"What, would you explode me, too?"

They glared at each other, tense and angry. Then the archangel sighed, deflating a little.

"What happened to you, Castiel?"

Castiel lifted one shoulder and let it fall, as he had seen the Winchesters do. "Life."

An unreadable expression crossed the archangel's face.

"Told you sticking with those boys would end badly for you," he said as he decided to sit next to Castiel. While the said angel wasn't particularly happy with this sitting arrangement, it wasn't like he could drag anyone away in his state.

"I have no memory of you telling me so."

"Well, I may have not given you an eloquent speech, but what did you think I was trying to show you in the TV land?"

"You shoved me into a dog's body, made me chase rabbits, and set hunters after me," Castiel said in a flat voice.

Gabriel wagged his finger. "No, no, _the hunters_ made you chase the rabbits, not me."

"What does that matter? You're the one who created the situation."

"You're forgetting that I was trying to teach you a lesson there," Gabriel snapped himself his favorite brand of beer. "I'm a Trickster, as you had oh so gently reminded me."

Castiel continued to give him an unimpressed stare.

"Fine," Gabriel sighed dramatically. "It sucks when some mutton heads can't appreciate good allegory. You have to hit them with an anvil and lay everything out or they don't understand."

"What allegory?"

"Exactly what I was talking about, bro," Gabriel winked, drinking straight from the bottle. "Let's skip the whole story about Han Xin and Liu Bang for now, because I know it would only make you distracted. Bottom line is, you're the dog, the Winchesters are the hunters. That would make Mikey and Lucy as the rabbits in this story, but what the hell, I think they can afford some ego bruising. You following so far?"

Castiel nodded, drink addled brain making him slow.

Gabriel's smirk suddenly disappeared, leaving his amber eyes old and ancient. "They may pet you when they need you to hunt the rabbits, but the moment the rabbits are caught, they're gonna turn against you so fast that you won't know what's happening. You gotta watch where you're headed."

Castiel opened his mouth to protest, but stopped, looking back on what happened in that little world Gabriel had created.

"You didn't let me change back until I bit the hunters," Castiel said quietly.

Gabriel shrugged, smiling mysteriously. "Take that as however you want. I've explained enough."

Castiel felt himself sobering a little. And that was the last thing he wanted. He staggered up to gather more fortifying alcohol. He didn't want anymore introspection. He was supposed to be able to enjoy the blank comfort of alcohol today.

He sat back with armful of bottles.

"You're wrong," Castiel couldn't resist saying. "Sam and Dean won't do that to me."

"Oh, yeah?" Gabriel smirked challengingly. "Heard about that time travel stunt of yours. Did the two mutton heads know what they were asking of you? How much price do you have to pay before you wisen up?"

"I chose willingly to offer them my assistance," Castiel replied rigidly.

"Uh-huh, so you're going to keep helping them over your own family, knowing how badly it can end?"

"Wouldn't setting Michael against Lucifer tear our family as well?" Castiel countered. "And more of our brothers and sisters would die in the upcoming war. I believe stopping the Apocalypse is the right thing to do. And as for your other concern," Castiel took a deep breath. "Sam and Dean weren't the ones who tortured me for having a different opinion. They didn't kill me, or trap me in the ring of holy fire," he looked straight at his brother's eyes. "If anyone is hurting me, it's not them, Gabriel."

It seemed the archangel didn't have any comeback for that. Mute, he turned his head away.

For several long hours, they each nursed their own drink without a word.

The stalemate ended when Castiel's phone vibrated. The seraph fumbled with the device, not yet used to this human contraption enough to use it with ease even in an inebriated state.

He managed to open the voicemail.

'Cas, hey, uh, it's me,' said Sam's voice. 'So we are in Blue Earth, Minnesota, and um, we could use a little help. I… hope you get this.'

Castiel lowered his phone, and shot a wary glance at the archangel. Would he try to stop him from leaving? Castiel wasn't sure of his odd.

"Go lil' bro, I'll take care of the bill," Gabriel waved him off. "Just one thing," he started but hesitated, as if he was unsure whether or not he should bring attention to the topic he was about to mention.

At last he asked, "Aren't you going to ask for my help?"

Castiel stood, wondering how much honesty he could afford here.

Then again, what more did he have to lose?

"I spent the last few months searching for aid from someone who didn't show any care," Castiel answered quietly. "I won't waste my time any longer begging for assistance when I know that it won't be coming."

He turned, not caring for the archangel's reaction. He flied to the Winchesters.

* * *

_You were wrong, Gabriel,_ Castiel thought bitterly as he took off his tie and wrapped it around his palm.

The archangel had tried to teach a wrong lesson to Castiel. He shouldn't have tried to warn Castiel about the chance of Winchesters discarding him after they were finished with their mission.

No, instead, Gabriel should have warned him about the surrender, how Dean would throw away the mission and everything that Castiel had done for him in a heartbeat.

Castiel felt his blood boil once again, but ruthlessly suppressed it. There was no time for that.

"I'll clear them out. You two grab the boy. This is our only chance."

"Whoa, wait," Dean said, looking alarmed. "You're gonna take on five angels?"

What was the Winchesters with their stupid questions? "Yes."

"Isn't that suicide?"

For a second, Castiel imagined laying it all out on Dean:

_My brother tried to warn me, did you know? He was worried, in his own twisted way, that you were going to use me and discard me. And I had thought about that, but I had not cared. I would have, as I already have, gladly went on to any suicide mission you asked of me if it meant giving you a chance to win against this war. But instead, you even took away my chance to die for a worthwhile cause. Now, all I have is this._

But what was the use? He wouldn't bare his heart only for it to be trampled away.

"Maybe it is. But then I won't have to watch you fail," Castiel spoke with the only words he could spare. "I'm sorry, Dean. I don't have the same faith in you that Sam does.

He pulled a box cutter out of his pocket.

"What the hell are you gonna do with that?" Sam asked, worry tinging his voice.

Castiel had a half of mind to remain defiantly silent, but forced himself to explain as the last thing he needed was the brothers barging in and ruining his final plan. He started to carve the sigil into him, but nobody asked again about his chance of survival. Dean opened and closed his mouth for a few times, but ultimatrly remained silent. Castiel preferred it.

He finished the sigil, closing the red line in full circle.

_Did the two mutton heads know what they were asking of you?_

Castiel smiled grimly.

It was time to pay the price for his faith.

* * *

AN: This was supposed to be a funny, cracky fic with drunken Cas and Gabriel, but rewatching 5x08, 5x16, 5x17 and 5x18 for reference turned out to be a mistake. Both Cas and Gabriel was just so angry and was in no mood for anything light hearted xp. Anyway, hope you enjoyed the fic!


	2. Faith and Bees

AN: Set right before Castiel wakes up in 7X21. Gabriel enters Castiel's hallucinating mind. Castiel pov.

* * *

The sky is blue, the grass is green, and the wings are black.

You are kneeling in the middle. The same pattern of blue, green, and black repeats until it desolves into the horizon. You stare and stare. Slowly, your view becomes narrow and dark. Rows of lean feathers form jagged puzzles in front of your eyes. It's your wings. It's also black.

"No, no, Castiel, it's different," cold air puffs next to your ears. Your wings do nothing to protect him from the cold. "Come on, Castiel. Look."

Fingers caresse through your primaries. You shiver. You arch your wings over your head, away from your eyes. The fingers don't follow you.

"Good," the blond man smiles genially. His wings are brilliant white, tinged with red and smoke but still shining cold. "Now look again."

Blue, green, and black.

You don't realize that you are shrinking back. Not until a solid hand from behind prevents your escape.

"Do you see the difference? Your wings and theirs?"

You shake your head.

"Yours are still moving," the black wings freeze, chasten. The hands comes again, idle and contemplative. They reach toward the wings and spread them wide, pushes them down so that they sweep the ground. The blue eyes are curious, watching the bug pinned on the glass.

"Better," the voice judges. "But it still lacks artistic touch."

The hand now has a silver blade. It glistens like ice.

"Come on," the hand picks up your limp arm, braces your weak wrist and opens your curled finger. The ice is now in your hands but you can't let go. You're stuck. "You know what you have to do."

There is awareness inside of you. This feels like old song and dance you have done over thousand of times. You're unsure why you're here, why this feel so familiar. Nonetheless you shake your head. You don't know why. Old habit, perhaps.

"Come on, Cas," the voice says again, this time deeper and less patient. "Don't be a dick," the hands are harsh as they push you backward.

Your vision swim.

One hand is on your shoulder, pinning you to the ground. You look up and see the man change. His hair turns darker, his jaws wider, his nose a bit crooked. His wings turn into searing blue, and bursts into spears of light. Burned smell fills the air and fire roars into life, but you can't see it directly. The man is right on top of you, blocking everything. You can only look up at the hint of green around the black pupil, red and gold making a perfect ring inside it.

"Why are you still here, Cas?" the man asks, his voice dark with betrayal. "Wasn't I clear enough? Why do you think I left you?"

You open your mouth, but the air is hot. It scorches your throat and takes your voice away.

"No, Cas, don't. You don't get to decide anymore. You ruin everything," the man grabs at your wrist, and you remember that the blade is still in your hand. "We're done."

Your eyes burn. A trail of water tries to sooth it away, but it does nothing. Dry hand cups your chin. "Come on, Cas," the voice is softer. "One last time. For me?"

You look down at your intertwined hands, at the blade shining like a light. You nod. You lift your hand and positions it above your heart. The man helps you wrap your fingers more tightly on the hilt. You hesitate and look at the man's eyes. Blue, green, and black.

"This is the right thing to do," the voice curls around him like a smoke.

You agree.

"No, it's not."

There's a sharp snap, and everything is gone.

Surprised, you blink your eyes. You look at your empty hand and flex it, just to be sure.

"Why are you alone in here?" a new voice bites.

You roll your head toward the source. There stands another blond man, shorter, but with longer hair. His wings are flared out, tawny gold in the space of nothingness.

You close your eyes, suddenly tired. Why another persuader? You don't understand. They wanted you to pick up the blade, so you did. You don't know what more they want from you. You lie still. They'll make their demand. They always do.

Soft sigh.

"What have they done to you, kiddo?"

You feel the man standing closer to you, but don't look. You don't care. You want to sink and sink until you're just a smear in the bottom.

"Alright, that's it. Up. You're being pathetic."

Arms tug you up, and you comply. You note that the place is filled with a pool of water about an inch deep. Half of you is soaked wet from your previous position. You dispassionately stare as wet patches spread through your flimsy white pants.

"Hey, call off the water, would you?" The man says lightly. "I wanna sit with style."

"Why ask?" You speak. You're surprised to hear a raspy voice coming out of you. "You can erase everything."

"Well, yeah, but I kinda want to save my juice."

You look at the man blankly.

"Fine, we'll stand. No teas, no seats," the man rolls his eyes. The wings flip very pointedly. "You're a terrible host."

"You can go."

"So, kid," he claps his hands, ignoring you. "Looking pretty vacant there. You even remember me, bucko?"

You're about to say no, but something in you tells you that the man won't take that for an answer. Reluctantly, you look deeper. You're only glad that the his eyes are not blue, green, and black.

The blank canvas shifts. The water coalesces into one side and forms a small stream. The ground becomes rough with rocks. Tall trees surround them. Noise fills the place. Birds are chirping, squirrels and rabbits are scurrying about, and in the distance, dogs are barking.

There's a name at the tip of your tongue, clawing to be out. You scramble to hold it back. You can't let it. You can't let the levee break.

The man looks around the surrounding with unreadable expression. The tawny wings are held tightly in the back. "I made quiet the impression on you, didn't I?"

You don't answer. Something is bubbling inside you. You don't like it.

The barking sound comes closer and closer. Before you know it, soft, warm body jumps into you. You crouch low, and bury your head on the black fur, desparing at its color but thankful for a place to hide.

"Castiel."

"Leave me alone."

"Gladly. If you could tell me why you're left alone in the hospital with a demon and not with your supposed friends, I'll be on my way."

The dog growls, muscles twitching dangerously. You hold on tightly. You don't want anybody to be hurt.

"They're busy," you're not sure who 'they' are, but speak anyway.

"Too busy to look after you in this state?"

"It's my fault," the dog wimpers and softly gnaws at the juncture between your shoulder and neck. You can feel blood trickling down. "It's my fault."

"Hey, quit it," the man says sharply. "Back off, no one's chewing on my bro."

The dog stops, and turns to observe the man curiously. You keep your hand on its back, just in case.

The man comes closer, and crouches down. Two fingers extend forward, but stops before they could make contact with your temple.

"I could really use some explanation. Would you rather talk or show?"

Your mind is a scrambled string. Dizzily, you lean against the warm fingers.

The air shifts. One second, it's biting cold and in another, it's scorching hot. You scruch your eyes shut.

"Hello, brother. I see dear Castiel isn't the only one who has trouble staying dead. Should I have exploded you as well, Gabriel?"

The dog barks loudly and shots off from you. Panicked for some reason, you shove your mind down blindly. When you open your eyes, everything is at it was. The man is frozen in front of you, eyes trained on the dog as it shakes a dead rabbit in its mouth viciously.

Like a puppet with its string cut, he doubles over, exploding into laughter. There's an endge of hysteria as he clutches at his stomach. "Oh, Cas, I don't know whether you listen too well or too little."

Likewise, you don't know whether you should feel proud or bewildered.

When the man regains his ability to breathe normally, his expression turns somber. "It was a stupid thing to do, taking the scar like that."

"It's done," you answer without thinking.

"So it is," he exhales loudly. "I'm never gonna stop you from throwing yourself under the bus for those two idiots, am I?"

You don't understand what the man precisely means by his comment. You think his cryptic manner is for your benefit and stay silent.

"They better damn well appreciate it," the man pats the dog's head as it drops the dead rabbit at his feet. The dog wags its tail as feathers brush against its back.

"Well, as pleasant as this chat was, I'm afraid we can't go on like this indefinitely. Cas, how do you feel about leaving here?"

"Leave?" The knowledge pokes you like a thorn. The world is more than this. More than the forest and more than the blue, green, and black. You feel trapped. "I can't."

"Not like this, I'm aware. But I can help patch you up. Enough for you to move around and smite demons if need be."

"I don't want to fight," the words tumble out of your mouth, scared.

"I know, kid. I hate fighting, too," one tawny wing open wide and tug you close. Your wings flutter in response. You slump into the other's support. It's foreign yet welcome. "But I can't leave you defenceless, either."

"You can stay," you respond drowsily.

"I could," the other wing comes and form a small cocoon. You feel safe. "You have to choose. I can stay and keep you safe, but than you have to come with me where no one can find you. I'm not leaving you with that demon or am I going to risk those idiots leaving you again."

"No one will find me?"

"I'm genius at hiding."

The offer is very tempting. You've never felt so relaxed. This is better than sinking into nothing. Yet there is small prickling, a tug that tells you that you should wait. The same reason you always halted right before the blade could pierce you.

"What's the other choice?"

"I heal you, you wake up back in the real world, but I go into hiding. My juice would be pretty much tanked after that. If I stay, I'll be nothing more than a pretty bargain chip and die."

"I want you alive. And I want you to stay."

"So you're gonna stay here?"

The dog whines and tugs at your clothes. You feel miserable as you hear the thin fabric tear.

"Why can't I have both?"

"Sorry, kiddo," warm hands ruffle your hair apologetically. "I'm not strong enough."

"I'm too broken for you to fix."

"No, don't be like that," your chin is tilted up. "You gave your best and more. I'm just sorry I couldn't help you before. Lucy did a number on me and this is the best I can do. You deserve more than this. I'm sorry I can't give you more."

The wings tighten around you. You can't move your wings much under his, so you wrap your arms around him.

"I can't leave them alone," your voice is muffled on his shoulder.

"I know."

"But what if you go and they never come back?"

He pauses.

"I don't know, kid. You're the one with faith."

Are you? You don't feel like it.

"How do you know?"

"Because you do things I can't never understand."

"That doesn't make sense."

"Well, humans said that bumble bees shouldn't be able to fly, but they do, don't they?"

You burrow into his warmth. Your brother is wrong. He's the one with faith, you don't have it. The only reason you don't say this out loud is because you don't want to argue with him.

Instead you say, "When I wake up, I'll watch the bees."

His laughter rumbles pleasantly. "Yeah, you do that."

He steps back. Your wings are finally free. You want to curl them around him, but doesn't want to see black wings anywhere near him.

"Thank you, Gabriel," you whisper, hoping he would catch what you're trying to offer.

His eyes widen, then crinkle into warm amber.

"See you later, bro."

He snaps.


End file.
